In Your Footsteps
by namiangelus
Summary: A short encounter between Teague and his eight year old son, Jack. Oneshot.


Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean or any of the characters. Wow did I really have to tell you that.

_In Your Footsteps _

Jack had been standing there, peering around the corner into his father's quarters for quite some time. Teague had been heavily aware of his son's presence ever since Jack's curious little eyes appeared in the threshold. Finally, with an amused laugh, Teague turned his gaze towards the opening.

"What's bringing you here?"

Jack stumbled forward and into clear view, all the while scratching the back of his head in a clumsy motion. When no response came from his son, Teague took a seat in a stray chair. "Well don't just stand there. Come o'er here." Without delay, Jack scampered to his father in short, energetic steps.

"Dad?"

"Yeah Jackie?" Teague met Jack's gaze firmly but without the uninviting, terror inflicting edge everyone else received.

With slight hesitation, Jack settled on his question. "Being Cap'n, there's so much depending on you, how can- where's the fun...?" Jack rolled his neck to look anywhere but Teague who was smirking. "I'm rambling..."

Teague reached out a hand but rested it on his knee before it could make contact with his son. He pivoted on the chair so he could put his feet up on a table. "It's like be'n in charge of the world. Your own world." His smirk softened, becoming far away, dreamy almost. "They're all at me command. When your Cap'n nothing's bad. Every day's live'n a dream. There is no right or wrong- that's yours to decide." Teague grasped a slender, dirty glass bottle bringing it up to his lips. Jack didn't speak but remained fixated on the floor boards. "That all you wan'ed boy?"

Once again Jack took a moment to consider. "Will I ever be a cap'n?" He asked quietly. He watched his father drain the remainder of the dark liquor, wipe his mouth and shake his groggy head.

"Why the Hell not?" Teague stood up, walking around in an unstable manner. His hands waved about at the attempt to keep balance. "You be a pirate, Cap'n, drunken whore monger. Wha'ever you feel like. I'm not stopp'en you."

"Cap'n..." Jack's distant mumbling was interrupted by a yawn. "...Probably not good enough for something like that." Suddenly, Jack's chin was grasped securely in his father's hand.

"Listen boy. You _will_ be good enough." He felt Jack tense up, unsure of his father's actions. "Relax." Teague loosened his grip and slid his hand down to rest on Jack's shoulder.

"'kay, Dad." After a small, jerky nod from Jack, Teague released his shoulder. Simultaneously, father and son shook their heads vigorously in desperate attempts to fend off sleep. Jack began walking away as Teague turned his attention out the window- black sky and millions of stars. Slowly, Teague began to sit on the floor so his back pressed against a large chest.

"Come 'ere." He motioned Jack towards him in drowsy gesture. Teague patted his legs folded loosely in something resembling Indian style. Jack didn't move.

"Huh?" Visually, he searched his father.

"Sit down." Teague was silent as his son took his place on his lap. The air was thick with the smell of rum and gunpowder both smells radiating from both individuals. "Now sleep."

"But Dad-"

"Sleep, no arguing." It was far more demanding than he had hoped so in a more gentle tone he added, "Close you eyes, Jackie." With uncertainty, Teague wrapped an arm around the front of his son. After a few minutes Jack relaxed against his chest. "Jackie?"

"Yeah?" Jack had lifted his arms up to warm himself in the cool night air that had managed to seep in.

"Your cold."

"Am no-"

"Jackie." Teague interrupted softly.

"'kay, maybe a'little..." Jack huffed, feeling somewhat pathetic.

Teague struggled a bit but finally got his blood and dirt stained coat off and lay it on top of his son. Then returned his arm to were it was before. "That bett'r?"

Jack nodded and made a small noise in agreement. He rearranged himself so his cheek was rested against his father's chest. There was a rough tune being hummed by Teague closely resembling 'Hoist the Colors.' It couldn't and wouldn't be labeled as lullaby quality to anyone else but it did sooth Jack. It wasn't long before Jack fell asleep with Teague's arms wrapped around him.

"Good night there, Jackie." And Teague finally let sleep overtake him.

A/N: If you've read this before and are telling yourself it was different- no, you're not going crazy. I felt the need to update the quality of my writing because after rereading it I realized it could use some TLC.

Thanks for reading. Review if you have a minute.


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